Parenthood (x2)
by Twelve-on-Delphon
Summary: "There were two activities, Clara had noticed, that her eight month old son Ian truly enjoyed; going for walks, and pulling hair." Single parents AU, in which I am Whoffaldi trash and the Doctor is an awkward penguin with a baby.


**Whoffaldi single parents AU. I got the idea from tumblr and then tweaked it a bit. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this one or do a series of one-shots with related themes, but it did end up much longer than I originally planned. I haven't done any creative writing in almost two years (it's been essays, essays, and more essays for me), so I'm a little rusty. Please have patience while I shake off the cobwebs.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. It belongs to the BBC.**

There were two activities, Clara had noticed, that her eight month old son Ian truly enjoyed; going for walks, and pulling hair. She supposed both were perfectly normal hobbies for babies, but her son seemed to have a proclivity for combining the two. Clara would be pushing him along in his stroller for one of their early morning walks, enjoying the quiet and exercise (because it's hard to make time to go to the gym when you're a single parent, let alone one who is a teacher as well) when Ian would start cooing and giggling at the passersby. It would only be a matter of time after that before he had his dimpled fingers tangled in some poor stranger's hair.

Today's walk was beginning to look like an exception, however. Ian was being considerably well behaved, which honestly worried Clara. In her time as a nanny and later as a schoolteacher, quietness and subdued behavior had proven to mean that a cold was coming on. It was for this reason that Clara had decided to shorten their route for the day and head home early. Her pace picked up a bit when some tell-tale sniffling picked up from inside the stroller. Definitely a cold then; she would have to make an appointment with the pediatrician when she got home. Frowning, the brunette maneuvered the stroller over to the side of the crosswalk to adjust the canopy- she never could get the darn thing to open right and she was sure the brisk wind was not helping her son's running nose. Clara didn't see why it had to be so complicated. Giving an exasperated sigh, she yanked forcefully at the canopy again, to no avail.

"Damn thing." She muttered, to which her son giggled, reaching upwards to try to grasp at her red, floral printed shirt. "Oh no, nice try, but I won't be having any snot on my blouse, thank you." Clara smiled cheekily, moving out of his grasp to yank on the other side of the canopy, chipping a nail in the process and uttering a few choice words about stroller manufacturers.

"Excuse me, but would you care for some help?" A thick Scottish brogue broke her out of her little rant. Clara's head snapped up, broken nail already en route to her teeth. Standing before her was a man in about his mid-fifties, sporting a head of magnificently poofy silver hair and pushing a stroller similar to her own. The only difference was his had an open canopy and was purple to her blue. Nestled inside was a precious baby girl with curls of her own; hers, however, were blonde. Clara blinked down at her, bright grin spreading across her cheeks, then turned back to the tall man. She nodded gratefully, gesturing to the stubborn latch.

"If you can get the canopy open, I would really appreciate it, Mr...-?"

"Doctor, actually. Doctor John Smith, although my coworkers simply call me 'The Doctor'. I don't really understand why." As he spoke, the Doctor, as he called himself, reached under and to the side of the stroller and felt around, his impressive eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "The trick to this thing is- ah, here." There was a sound of a spring, and then the canopy popped open. Clara startled a bit, then laughed, brown hair bouncing. Ian squealed in response, throwing his hands up toward the stranger. The Doctor peered down at him with a small smile, like he was trying hard not to be charmed. There was no trick to _that_ , Clara knew.

"Thank you, really. Oh, I'm Clara Oswald, sorry." The man shook his head, extending a long finger for her son to grasp.

"It's no problem, Clara. He has your eyes." He noted, leaning a bit closer to get a better look at the little brown-eyed boy. It was more of an observation than a compliment, but something about the man's demeanor told Clara that it was meant to be one. She smiled again. He was almost nose-to- nose now, an actual smile gracing his features. Clara was hardly paying attention to him though, too busy cooing over the baby girl who she assumed was his granddaughter.

"Thank you- wait, watch out, he likes to-" she noticed too late. Before she could finish her warning, her son had tangled his fingers in the Doctor's curls, his caramel colored fists contrasting prettily with the silvery strands. Shrieking triumphantly, he gave a firm pull, nearly toppling the old man over. The Doctor grunted, face pressed to the little plastic tray over Ian's lap. Clara gasped, immediately bending over to try to wrestle her son's hands as gently as she could from the kind stranger's hair, blush rushing to her cheeks in chagrin.

"I am so sorry, he's just started doing this- Ian, no, let go." The Doctor gave a forgiving sort of grunt, a bit distracted by the two pairs of hands in his hair (and the one pair of breasts suddenly very close to his face).

"It's- ow- fine. My daughter- ouch!- does the same thing." He panted, grimacing at a particularly vicious yank from young Ian. Clara paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow.

"Your daught- OW!"

Apparently, he wasn't just trying to ease her guilt.

Now Clara was bent backwards over the purple stroller, struggling to maintain her balance while wrestling her tresses from the grasp of the very self-satisfied baby girl. Unfortunately, she had a bit more hair than the Doctor, and a lot less maneuverability in her contorted state. Clara stopped struggling with a resigned sigh, casting an eye aside to see if her new acquaintance had been more successful.

Apparently he had conceded defeat in his struggle of strength against an infant and had moved onto other, more dignified tactics. Clara watched with wide eyes as this wizened, rather intimidating man deftly unhooked her squealing son from his seat, lifted him into the air with his hair still firmly grasped, and _blew a raspberry onto his belly._ Ian dissolved into giggles, releasing the Doctor's hair in the process.

"Hah!" Grinning triumphantly, the Doctor held the wriggling baby boy at arm's length, lest the tike make another grab for his silver mane. "Ticklish. I'm afraid that's your hamartia, little one."

"Very well done." Clara called without a little sarcasam. "But if you don't mind- ack!" The baby girl tightened her grip, clearly determined not to fail where her comrade had. The man gasped, placing Ian back into his stroller carefully (and making sure he was no longer in arms reach) and coming, once again, to her aid.

"You too?" He chuckled, leaning over the young woman as politely as he could to reach his daughter's hands. Clara shot him a playful glare, unable to be cross with the mirth in his tone. He was charming, in a smug, annoying sort of way.

"Even the best of us fall sometimes-" The words had hardly left her lips when she was suddenly released and, in her unbalanced state, fell straight onto her bum on the sidewalk with a little "oh!" of surprise. Those expressive eyebrows shot straight up and the Doctor snorted in an attempt to withhold his laughter at her (much less friendly) glare, his face twisting in effort. Clara's answering little gesture was just too much for his self-control.

She remained there on the pavement, arms crossed indignantly, until the Doctor regained his composure (though he still giggled a bit- _giggled!_ ) enough to reach a hand out and help her to her feet.

"Terribly sorry." He grinned sheepishly, somehow managing to look exactly like a child who had been caught stealing sweets. Clara managed to maintain her dry look for about three seconds, and then gave up with a light shake of her head and a smile of her own.

"It's really fine. Didn't break anything, so." She glanced down at the little girl, who still had a few brown strands in her grasp. Clara winced, rubbing the back of her head. "You've got quite a strong grip, don't you?" She cooed (although she didn't dare lean over the stroller). The Doctor reached down and stroked his daughter's cheek fondly. Which reminded her-

"So she's yours? I'm sorry, but I would have thought her your granddaughter." He snorted once, and Clara's eyes widened at how rude that sounded. _Yes, Clara, good job; assault him with a toddler and then poke fun at his age._ "I mean, not that you're too old to… I just..." They both blushed as she fell silent. The Doctor carded a hand through his gray hair self-consciously, avoiding her gaze. His teasing, bantering persona seemed to drop away then, and Clara watched as he seemed to grow more weary and somber before her eyes. Had he looked so tired before?

"No, that's fine. It's, uh, an easy conclusion to draw. I'd be lying if I said I had planned to have an infant at 55. My late wife and I just had a bit of an age difference and…" He mirrored her earlier action, awkwardly trailing off. His eyes fell down to his shiny black shoes and he swallowed heavily.

Oh. She really felt terrible now, especially because she understood, truly, how hard it was to be so suddenly alone. First with her mother, and then with… Clara hesitated for a moment, then placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Um, me too, actually." She murmured, shifting her feet. "Not the, uh, age difference bit, but," she took a deep breath before continuing, "My boyfriend, Danny, he passed. Car accident. He didn't even know I was pregnant, we weren't really planning either, but…"

"But you're glad now, to have some part of them with you." The Doctor finished, piercing blue eyes searching her face for a moment before meeting her gaze.

"Yeah." They shared a long look; it said "I know, I've been there too, I'm still not okay". His free hand moved on top of hers, and gave an awkward pat. Awkward was beginning to look like one of his defining character traits. He was an awkward old man with big, sad eyes that she found she could read very well, perhaps because they seemed to echo her own. They were the kind of eyes that had seen many sleepless nights with a crumpled photograph in one hand and a wailing infant in the other. Clara cleared her throat and decided to change the subject, lest she break down right here on the sidewalk. That was her rule, her constant mantra to herself- _no crying in public, keep a cheery face, and get on with your life_. She only allowed herself a few minutes, every day, to grieve; there were more important things to focus on. Her son's increasingly runny nose, for instance.

"I need to be getting home, Ian is getting sick and I want to see if I can get him in with the pediatrician today. It was nice to meet you, Doctor," She put on a big smile and addressed the blonde little girl in her stroller, who looked like she was starting to dose off now that all the fun had ended. "And it was nice to meet you…?" The Doctor startled a bit, looking lost in thought.

"Oh! Amelia, after her grandmother," He stated distractedly, digging in the pockets of his steel blue coat. The lining, Clara noted with amusement, was bright red silk, like a magician's cape. He certainly had a peculiar sense of fashion; underneath the coat, he was wearing a holey jumper almost the same shade of black as his trousers. _Magician or rumpled hobo?_

"Very nice to meet you, little Amelia." The baby girl yawned back at her.

"Clara." The Doctor had reassumed that awkward posture, cheeks pink, hand once again in his hair. In his free hand was a business card that read "John Smith, M.D".

"I wrote my mobile number on the back. Give me a call, if you ever want to talk or, I don't know, need me to rescue you from another rubbish stroller…" The teasing tone had returned. Clara stared down at the little rectangle for a moment, a soft smile gracing her lips as she reached out and took it.

"I think I might. I need a good help line." She teased.

The Doctor chuckled.

"Best in the universe."


End file.
